So, we went. Ta-da. We were asked to be there by 9:30 to 9:45 for our 10am appointment. Turns out, everyone was told the same thing -- all 200 people. Fortunately for us, we were concerned about traffic going in to the City, so we left at 8:10 for what should typically be a 45 minute drive to downtown City. We did have a little delay on the interstate -- one lane of two was blocked for inmates picking up litter, and traffic was backed up about 1 mile, but we got through that and arrived at the location at 9am. We were the 5th family there. The poor folks who did arrive and the recommended time had to stand in the back of the room -- we were seated by arrival time, so LO and I were on the 2nd row.
She wore her fave outfit and I straightened her hair from 7:30 to 8:00. She looked great and definitely had the enthusiasm thing going on.
The facility was a lovely restored old building, with the inside being all brick, wood floors, wood rafters, large windows. Very high ceilings. Extremely thin models in extremely high heels seated us and made sure we knew where the restrooms were.
We were given an application and a booklet. LO had to complete the application, including a 100-word essay on why she thinks she would succeed in Hollywood. I had to read the booklet, including the price list for Development classes, averaging about $100 a week for 20 to 150-week commitments. (Fortunately on the drive down, LO and I had had a chat. I had explained to her that this might be the case, that they would tell her how great she is, she is almost ready for Hollywood, that she just needs a little schooling for so many thousand dollars. We had a good discussion about and she understood that if that were the case, we would laugh and say no thanks, but we had a great time.)
Finally, at 10, The Show began. Extremely attractive people spoke in extremely loud voices (there was quite a crowd, about 200 families) to talk about how much determination and commitment it takes to work in Hollywood. They only accept students with a 3.0 gpa or above, as your grades are a good indicator of how hard you work. They asked questions and had the crowd yell answers, mob-mentality-style. (I do not respond to this tactic. I sit quietly.) Finally, we lined up, in the order in which we arrived (thank goodness) and waited to go into the office of producer #1 for a brief, make that, extremely brief, interview. Mr. Extremely Friendly asked her some questions and made glowing remarks about her self-confidence and maturity. He asked me why they should accept her and I made appropriately glowing remarks about her.
Next we lined up for an on-camera audition where she had to slate (state her name and age) and read a 10-second commercial. The four little girls before her were quite young and barely whispered their lines. Then LO strode to her mark on the stage, gave her lines with expression, a radiant smile, tossed her hair over her shoulder, and strode off. The crowd smiled and laughed. The producer was chuckling as he made his remarks on her paper.
We were to call back at 9am today to see if she had "made" callbacks. I called at 8 and asked if we could find out early so as to not have to step out of church to call at 9. We were put on hold for a few minutes and then connected directly to Mr. Extremely Friendly. "She made the cut! Congratulations!" I asked what the next step might be. "You just need to stop in today and sign up for the 20-week class." "Well, thanks, but our family is not prepared to make such an investment at this time. We had..." I was trying to say, "We had a great time," but Mr. E.F. had already said, "All right, Goodbye," and hung up the phone.
We really did have fun.
Sunday, March 18
Wednesday, March 14
The Audition
The dichotomy of being a Nana and raising your grandchild is that you spoil the child with one hand, and discipline with the other.
LO was upstairs watching Hannah Montana when I got home from work. I called her downstairs to talk about her day and ask about homework. Yes, she had some, yes, she had hoodwinked DH so that she was watching TV instead of doing said homework. Might be a good idea to do it now, I said. OK, she said.
So she is in her room doing her homework with stereo on and headphones on. (We can't quite handle the rap music.)
"NANA! NANA! Quick! They are having auditions for Hannah Montana!! Can we call, puh-leeze?"
"No, Sweetie, I can't take off work for an audition."
"May I puh-leeze call and just find out? It's our area code so I know it won't be too far to drive..."
Sigh. OK.
So, she finds the phone (running joke) and calls. The first thing, the very first thing they say is, "Do you have a parent nearby?" "Sure," she says, and hands me the phone.
I am talking with a very nice young woman, not too long out of college. She gives us an appointment for 9:30 Saturday morning in Nearby Larger City. Gives me explicit directions to get to the building. Tells me names of the directors who will interview Little One. Tells us what to wear.
"She has only been in local theater. Does she need a resume?" I ask.
"No, we are looking for undiscovered talent."
"Is there any cost involved whatsoever?"
"No, ma'am, there is not. Just bring your child, dressed appropriately, and two photographs we can keep."
It could be a total scam. The commercial was on a radio station from the same Nearby Larger City. I will not let LO out of my sight. I will check id's. It might be a fun day to remember.
More fun than cleaning up the local nature preserve, which was actually what I had planned, originally.
LO ran to call her VBF's. Squealing. Shrieking. OMG'ing.
Sigh.
LO was upstairs watching Hannah Montana when I got home from work. I called her downstairs to talk about her day and ask about homework. Yes, she had some, yes, she had hoodwinked DH so that she was watching TV instead of doing said homework. Might be a good idea to do it now, I said. OK, she said.
So she is in her room doing her homework with stereo on and headphones on. (We can't quite handle the rap music.)
"NANA! NANA! Quick! They are having auditions for Hannah Montana!! Can we call, puh-leeze?"
"No, Sweetie, I can't take off work for an audition."
"May I puh-leeze call and just find out? It's our area code so I know it won't be too far to drive..."
Sigh. OK.
So, she finds the phone (running joke) and calls. The first thing, the very first thing they say is, "Do you have a parent nearby?" "Sure," she says, and hands me the phone.
I am talking with a very nice young woman, not too long out of college. She gives us an appointment for 9:30 Saturday morning in Nearby Larger City. Gives me explicit directions to get to the building. Tells me names of the directors who will interview Little One. Tells us what to wear.
"She has only been in local theater. Does she need a resume?" I ask.
"No, we are looking for undiscovered talent."
"Is there any cost involved whatsoever?"
"No, ma'am, there is not. Just bring your child, dressed appropriately, and two photographs we can keep."
It could be a total scam. The commercial was on a radio station from the same Nearby Larger City. I will not let LO out of my sight. I will check id's. It might be a fun day to remember.
More fun than cleaning up the local nature preserve, which was actually what I had planned, originally.
LO ran to call her VBF's. Squealing. Shrieking. OMG'ing.
Sigh.
Sunday, March 11
12 Seconds of Darkness
My life right now pretty much consists of racing around, whether on foot, or in the car, from place to place and from commitment to commitment.
A typical day has me taking LO to school at 7:15, running by my favorite coffeehouse for a mug refill and a HH muffin, then sliding in to work at 7:30. Many days I have to leave work to check her out of school and hie to an orthodontist's/doctor's/dentists/other/ appointment, then back to school to check her back in, then back to work.
On some days, DH picks her up from school and drops her at the museum to study in my office until we can go home. On other days, I cut the workday short to pick her up and go home, or bring her back with me so I can finish items there.
In addition, my work necessitates that I make daily trips to the printer or office supply place or some vendor to get printed material/event planning items/door prizes. This is all in addition to the appointments with local businesses/banks/individuals to talk about their potentially sponsoring an upcoming exhibition.
Last Thursday, I had LO in tow as I left work to race to a meeting a PCJ, and left that meeting early to make it to another meeting here in the neighborhood. Every week I have at least one night or two with meetings, many with more than one meeting, just as on Thursday.
Last week during the day I was on a trip to pick up printed items and deliver them to a local volunteer who is soliciting support for the museum from her peers in her industry. While in the car, I heard the coolest interview with a guy from Spain (originally from Uruguay,) named Jorge Drexler, who writes music. His latest CD is called, '12 Segundos de Oscuridad' or, 12 Seconds of Darkness. As the interviewer asked why it has that title, he explained that what distinguishes one lighthouse from another is the interval of darkness between revolutions of the light. The sailors can identify their location by the period of darkness between blasts of light.
The compelling thought I got from all this was not the music, nor even the understanding of the lighthouses, but the metaphor of the lighthouses to our own lives. It's not the sunny days, the days of relative calm, the friends or good meals or contented cats in our lives that set us apart from all the other zillions of people we know, it's our 12 seconds of darkness. It's my having lost my father, my friend whose husband committed suicide, my husband's loss, that make us stronger and more resilient than we were before, that sets us apart from each other.
I am struggling to adjust to returning to the workplace. It seems so much more complicated and difficult than it ever did before, and I live in a perpetual state of semi-panic, trying to get it all done. Somehow the 12 Segundos comforted me.
A typical day has me taking LO to school at 7:15, running by my favorite coffeehouse for a mug refill and a HH muffin, then sliding in to work at 7:30. Many days I have to leave work to check her out of school and hie to an orthodontist's/doctor's/dentists/other/ appointment, then back to school to check her back in, then back to work.
On some days, DH picks her up from school and drops her at the museum to study in my office until we can go home. On other days, I cut the workday short to pick her up and go home, or bring her back with me so I can finish items there.
In addition, my work necessitates that I make daily trips to the printer or office supply place or some vendor to get printed material/event planning items/door prizes. This is all in addition to the appointments with local businesses/banks/individuals to talk about their potentially sponsoring an upcoming exhibition.
Last Thursday, I had LO in tow as I left work to race to a meeting a PCJ, and left that meeting early to make it to another meeting here in the neighborhood. Every week I have at least one night or two with meetings, many with more than one meeting, just as on Thursday.
Last week during the day I was on a trip to pick up printed items and deliver them to a local volunteer who is soliciting support for the museum from her peers in her industry. While in the car, I heard the coolest interview with a guy from Spain (originally from Uruguay,) named Jorge Drexler, who writes music. His latest CD is called, '12 Segundos de Oscuridad' or, 12 Seconds of Darkness. As the interviewer asked why it has that title, he explained that what distinguishes one lighthouse from another is the interval of darkness between revolutions of the light. The sailors can identify their location by the period of darkness between blasts of light.
The compelling thought I got from all this was not the music, nor even the understanding of the lighthouses, but the metaphor of the lighthouses to our own lives. It's not the sunny days, the days of relative calm, the friends or good meals or contented cats in our lives that set us apart from all the other zillions of people we know, it's our 12 seconds of darkness. It's my having lost my father, my friend whose husband committed suicide, my husband's loss, that make us stronger and more resilient than we were before, that sets us apart from each other.
I am struggling to adjust to returning to the workplace. It seems so much more complicated and difficult than it ever did before, and I live in a perpetual state of semi-panic, trying to get it all done. Somehow the 12 Segundos comforted me.
Wednesday, February 28
Home in the Morning
How nice to be home in the morning. LO has an appointment at 9am today. I decided that rather than get up at 5:30, take her to school at 7:00 for early band practice, go to work at 7:30, leave at 8:30, check her out of school and get to the appointment, it made much more sense to sleep in and go directly to the appointment at 9, then check her in to school.
DH has been working over the past several weeks to arrange to be off to return to Mexico this summer. Vacation schedules have been contentious, and it looked as if he would not be able to go. Finally a co-worker of his mentioned to his supervisor, "Wait a minute -- isn't this exactly what our company promotes? For the employees to make a difference in the world??" The supervisor had to agree. So, vacation or not, it looks as if DH can go after all.
Our church newsletter came out yesterday. While on the trip last year, our associate pastor wrote a number of letters to himself about the trip and arranged to have them mailed to himself later in the year so he could remember the trip all over again. He got his letter last week. Here is what he shared:
“With great excitement we have returned to Mexico and our work with Faith Ministries. It
has been challenging physically, emotionally, and spiritually. While the time in Mexico went without incident or concern for safety, it proved to be as physically demanding as any trip. Our small numbers and general lack of ‘muscle’ was stretched to the limit. Without the college students we could not have completed the work.
Spiritually, Jody [Blackwell] has been the voice of wisdom, guiding reflections and stirring us
deeply. Jody’s telling us how much he loved us reminded us that God is not finished the building
of our lives that has been started here. We are challenged to remember what happened here, to
keep our hearts open to each other and God, and to let this trip be a difference in our lives as we
have sought to make a difference in the lives of others in Mexico. God bless us all. ”
I have to say I am so so so glad he can return this year.
DH has been working over the past several weeks to arrange to be off to return to Mexico this summer. Vacation schedules have been contentious, and it looked as if he would not be able to go. Finally a co-worker of his mentioned to his supervisor, "Wait a minute -- isn't this exactly what our company promotes? For the employees to make a difference in the world??" The supervisor had to agree. So, vacation or not, it looks as if DH can go after all.
Our church newsletter came out yesterday. While on the trip last year, our associate pastor wrote a number of letters to himself about the trip and arranged to have them mailed to himself later in the year so he could remember the trip all over again. He got his letter last week. Here is what he shared:
“With great excitement we have returned to Mexico and our work with Faith Ministries. It
has been challenging physically, emotionally, and spiritually. While the time in Mexico went without incident or concern for safety, it proved to be as physically demanding as any trip. Our small numbers and general lack of ‘muscle’ was stretched to the limit. Without the college students we could not have completed the work.
Spiritually, Jody [Blackwell] has been the voice of wisdom, guiding reflections and stirring us
deeply. Jody’s telling us how much he loved us reminded us that God is not finished the building
of our lives that has been started here. We are challenged to remember what happened here, to
keep our hearts open to each other and God, and to let this trip be a difference in our lives as we
have sought to make a difference in the lives of others in Mexico. God bless us all. ”
I have to say I am so so so glad he can return this year.
Saturday, February 17
Fire in the Fireplace
It's a cold day outside and I've got a nice fire in the fireplace. Little One spent the night with her twin friends so I slept in a bit, took clothes to dry cleaner and shoes to shoe repair, then went to the museum to catch up on a bit of work. I missed 2 afternoons this week -- one going to meet with consultants in Charlotte, and the other to attend an annual luncheon the City throws for all the folks who serve on various boards and commissions.
My famed Palm came this week, but I was too busy to work with it much: deacons meeting on Monday, dinner with a gf on Tuesday, teaching a computer class on Wednesday. FINALLY on Thursday evening I got to play with it a bit, but it would not sync with our computer.
I did not take it to work on Friday as I was afraid I would play with it, and had too much real work to do that. I did google my error message for just a minute and I saw a tiny reference that seemed to imply that if you have MS Windows XP with Media Center addons (we do), your Palm has a conflict with it. That's ok, I need it sync'ed to my work computer anyway, was just trying to learn at home.
When I went in to work today, I remembered the Palm and the CD, but forgot the USB cable, so will have to try again on Monday. I have, though, used the wireless conn here in the house and it is pretty cool. Checked the weather in bed yesterday afternoon!
DH and I went out to dinner last night due to the empty nest, doesn't happen too much anymore, but we realize it will happen more and more now that she is getting older.
Tuesday night is the ceremony for LO to join the Honor Society. We look forward to that!
My famed Palm came this week, but I was too busy to work with it much: deacons meeting on Monday, dinner with a gf on Tuesday, teaching a computer class on Wednesday. FINALLY on Thursday evening I got to play with it a bit, but it would not sync with our computer.
I did not take it to work on Friday as I was afraid I would play with it, and had too much real work to do that. I did google my error message for just a minute and I saw a tiny reference that seemed to imply that if you have MS Windows XP with Media Center addons (we do), your Palm has a conflict with it. That's ok, I need it sync'ed to my work computer anyway, was just trying to learn at home.
When I went in to work today, I remembered the Palm and the CD, but forgot the USB cable, so will have to try again on Monday. I have, though, used the wireless conn here in the house and it is pretty cool. Checked the weather in bed yesterday afternoon!
DH and I went out to dinner last night due to the empty nest, doesn't happen too much anymore, but we realize it will happen more and more now that she is getting older.
Tuesday night is the ceremony for LO to join the Honor Society. We look forward to that!
Sunday, February 11
Saturday, February 10
Saturday Blogger
If it seems that I have become a Saturday Blogger, it may well be the case...for now. Hmm. Let's see what's new this week.
I guess most present on my mind is the Middle School Dance DH and I chaperoned last night. Our PTA held a Valentine's Dance last night and it was a grand success. I cringed when some on the Exec Board suggested we sell carnations, but everyone went for it and we sold out. Little One was even given one by the very cute boy who hulked behind her at a 3- to- 5- foot radius all night. He's a good kid, stocky with beautiful blue eyes and a little butch haircut. He's in her band class and maybe more, Old Nana isn't sure -- but he's bright and has a darling sense of humor. Of course she doesn't care a whit about him. She slow-danced with him twice but says it was only on a dare. It amazes me how girls fail to think that boys might have feelings, too. Was I like that?
One of her gf's came home with us from the dance to sleep over. They sat in the TV room upstairs and were still chatting at 11:30 when I went to bed. No, now that I think of it, they were making popcorn when I went to bed at 11:30.
Thursday was tryouts for the school talent show. Little One considered singing with gfs, but amazingly she must have listened when I said, "You sing pretty well, and you are really talented with the piano; which will you choose?" She had taught herself a piece on the piano called, "Tara's Theme," (we all know it as the theme song to "The Young and the Restless") and has played it like a zillion times since the first of the year. Wednesday night, she stayed up practicing it til 10:15. Ordinarily she goes to bed on the stroke of 9 (or 19, depending on which clock you listen to), but on this night, I just let her go. I'd rather she stay up a little late practicing, than go to bed and fret over the piece. The next morning as DH slept upstairs (night shift again) she asked if she might play it once more. I asked her to close the door to the upstairs and go for it. She played it through 2 or 3 more times -- beautifully, I might add-- and was ready to go.
Our band director was the judge and shared with us that she played calmly and beautifully at the tryouts. He was so glad to see someone with an actual talent, as half the school were trying out by lip-synching to various pop or rap songs. She was accepted into the talent show without a hitch.
Thursday was the Awards Assembly at school and she got Citizenship and Honor Roll ribbons (both for the second time) and this time she also got an invitation to join the Honor Society. The induction reception is Tuesday the 20th. We will take and post pics if it's not too entirely humiliating for her. :)
The story on the lady who runs the planetarium is supposed to run in the paper tomorrow. You can find it by going to www.salisburypost.com and search for my first and last name. All my articles will come up. This article is supposed to be named, "The Lady Behind the Stars," but the title is actually my editor's decision. I suggested it and she said she liked it, so it may or may not be used. Before you search, you might look at that first page of the website; it might be featured there so that you can just click on the leader.
I interviewed the Mayor of this small town Wednesday for my next article, "In His Steps," which is about folks who are working in the same field as their dads. The interview was awesome and I hope I can convey that through the article. I am still working on getting others for the article. I hope to find two other townspeople who are following their fathers' footsteps.
The computer class I teach on Wednesdays is going pretty well, I think . This week we took clip art apart and recolored it, and added components to it, then grouped it back together so that it could be moved around as one unit. It is a Word class and we did all this while in Word. Lots of folks seemed to think we would go into Paintbrush for this, but you can more easily do it all from inside Word. The class seemed to enjoy it. One of our people brought her daughter, who is the same age as LO, and she was absolutely the fastest student in the room. While the adults were asking exactly what did I mean, or my mouse won't bring up that menu, she was busily accomplishing the task I had assigned. It was great and I have even asked the church if I might teach a class to middle schoolers in the fall. Be careful what you ask for. I might wind up wondering what in the heck was I thinking.
DH talked me out of painting faces at the YMCA today, even though I make about $200 in one day doing it. He said I needed to sleep in more than we needed the money. I woke up this morning at 5:30 and tried hard to go back to sleep. At 7:30 when he got up, I lay there and looked at the dust on my nightstand and decided to get up and get started cleaning our room. As I was in the kitchen finding my dusting supplies, etc, he returned to bed!... and here I am, up bright and early, wishing I were painting faces or cleaning, but not hanging out getting nothing accomplished. Ah, well. Life goes on...
I guess most present on my mind is the Middle School Dance DH and I chaperoned last night. Our PTA held a Valentine's Dance last night and it was a grand success. I cringed when some on the Exec Board suggested we sell carnations, but everyone went for it and we sold out. Little One was even given one by the very cute boy who hulked behind her at a 3- to- 5- foot radius all night. He's a good kid, stocky with beautiful blue eyes and a little butch haircut. He's in her band class and maybe more, Old Nana isn't sure -- but he's bright and has a darling sense of humor. Of course she doesn't care a whit about him. She slow-danced with him twice but says it was only on a dare. It amazes me how girls fail to think that boys might have feelings, too. Was I like that?
One of her gf's came home with us from the dance to sleep over. They sat in the TV room upstairs and were still chatting at 11:30 when I went to bed. No, now that I think of it, they were making popcorn when I went to bed at 11:30.
Thursday was tryouts for the school talent show. Little One considered singing with gfs, but amazingly she must have listened when I said, "You sing pretty well, and you are really talented with the piano; which will you choose?" She had taught herself a piece on the piano called, "Tara's Theme," (we all know it as the theme song to "The Young and the Restless") and has played it like a zillion times since the first of the year. Wednesday night, she stayed up practicing it til 10:15. Ordinarily she goes to bed on the stroke of 9 (or 19, depending on which clock you listen to), but on this night, I just let her go. I'd rather she stay up a little late practicing, than go to bed and fret over the piece. The next morning as DH slept upstairs (night shift again) she asked if she might play it once more. I asked her to close the door to the upstairs and go for it. She played it through 2 or 3 more times -- beautifully, I might add-- and was ready to go.
Our band director was the judge and shared with us that she played calmly and beautifully at the tryouts. He was so glad to see someone with an actual talent, as half the school were trying out by lip-synching to various pop or rap songs. She was accepted into the talent show without a hitch.
Thursday was the Awards Assembly at school and she got Citizenship and Honor Roll ribbons (both for the second time) and this time she also got an invitation to join the Honor Society. The induction reception is Tuesday the 20th. We will take and post pics if it's not too entirely humiliating for her. :)
The story on the lady who runs the planetarium is supposed to run in the paper tomorrow. You can find it by going to www.salisburypost.com and search for my first and last name. All my articles will come up. This article is supposed to be named, "The Lady Behind the Stars," but the title is actually my editor's decision. I suggested it and she said she liked it, so it may or may not be used. Before you search, you might look at that first page of the website; it might be featured there so that you can just click on the leader.
I interviewed the Mayor of this small town Wednesday for my next article, "In His Steps," which is about folks who are working in the same field as their dads. The interview was awesome and I hope I can convey that through the article. I am still working on getting others for the article. I hope to find two other townspeople who are following their fathers' footsteps.
The computer class I teach on Wednesdays is going pretty well, I think . This week we took clip art apart and recolored it, and added components to it, then grouped it back together so that it could be moved around as one unit. It is a Word class and we did all this while in Word. Lots of folks seemed to think we would go into Paintbrush for this, but you can more easily do it all from inside Word. The class seemed to enjoy it. One of our people brought her daughter, who is the same age as LO, and she was absolutely the fastest student in the room. While the adults were asking exactly what did I mean, or my mouse won't bring up that menu, she was busily accomplishing the task I had assigned. It was great and I have even asked the church if I might teach a class to middle schoolers in the fall. Be careful what you ask for. I might wind up wondering what in the heck was I thinking.
DH talked me out of painting faces at the YMCA today, even though I make about $200 in one day doing it. He said I needed to sleep in more than we needed the money. I woke up this morning at 5:30 and tried hard to go back to sleep. At 7:30 when he got up, I lay there and looked at the dust on my nightstand and decided to get up and get started cleaning our room. As I was in the kitchen finding my dusting supplies, etc, he returned to bed!... and here I am, up bright and early, wishing I were painting faces or cleaning, but not hanging out getting nothing accomplished. Ah, well. Life goes on...
Sunday, February 4
Ruby Long has Died
Ruby Long died yesterday. I meant to call her; I meant to visit her. She's been at the Senior Home for almost a year now, and every time I drove past her house, the one she lived in forever before the Senior Home, I would have a pinprick in my conscience: "You need to go see Ruby Long." But, before I was even a block away, it was gone, and I did not think of it again until I went that way again.
Ruby Long died yesterday. Her name appeared in our bulletin every week, either in the main prayer list, or on the "And also remember" list. I really meant to call her. I meant to go see her.
Now it's too late.
Little One and I knew Ruby -- and her husband, Locke -- even before DH began coming to church with us. They were an older couple, and like lots of couples, she was outgoing and somewhat bossy with him, and he was quiet and made kind little gestures.
He carried Ovation chocolate sticks in his suit coat and gave them to all the kids he saw, even big ones like me. He had little to say, but when asked a question, his answers were thoughtful and insightful. Sometimes when he offered one to Little One (she was 3 or 4 at the time), he would teasingly pull back on it just a bit as if he had changed his mind. Ruby swatted him on the arm and told him not to tease. But he was just teasing.
When he died a few years back, the ushers handed out Ovation sticks at the funeral.
Ruby got the shingles a couple of years ago and it was the beginning of her downfall. Little One and I made her some bread and took it to her, but she did not feel like a visit. After the shingles, she suffered one thing after another until finally she was moved from the hospital to the Senior Home and now, she's gone.
She told her doctor one time that she would wait in her car to be called for her appointment because, "all these old people in your waiting room are so depressing." She was about 78 or so at the time.
She always wore bright colors because she didn't want to look "old and half-dead."
Little One's younger sister, Precious, stayed with us for about a year, and she loved Ruby Long. We oftentimes ran into her at the grocery store and Precious would run full-bore and throw her arms around Ruby Long's hips in a big hug. She would look up at Ruby Long, her face beaming. Ruby Long's face beamed back at her and she hugged her back, good and hard.
Ruby Long died yesterday. I meant to call her. I meant to go visit her.
And now she's gone.
Ruby Long died yesterday. Her name appeared in our bulletin every week, either in the main prayer list, or on the "And also remember" list. I really meant to call her. I meant to go see her.
Now it's too late.
Little One and I knew Ruby -- and her husband, Locke -- even before DH began coming to church with us. They were an older couple, and like lots of couples, she was outgoing and somewhat bossy with him, and he was quiet and made kind little gestures.
He carried Ovation chocolate sticks in his suit coat and gave them to all the kids he saw, even big ones like me. He had little to say, but when asked a question, his answers were thoughtful and insightful. Sometimes when he offered one to Little One (she was 3 or 4 at the time), he would teasingly pull back on it just a bit as if he had changed his mind. Ruby swatted him on the arm and told him not to tease. But he was just teasing.
When he died a few years back, the ushers handed out Ovation sticks at the funeral.
Ruby got the shingles a couple of years ago and it was the beginning of her downfall. Little One and I made her some bread and took it to her, but she did not feel like a visit. After the shingles, she suffered one thing after another until finally she was moved from the hospital to the Senior Home and now, she's gone.
She told her doctor one time that she would wait in her car to be called for her appointment because, "all these old people in your waiting room are so depressing." She was about 78 or so at the time.
She always wore bright colors because she didn't want to look "old and half-dead."
Little One's younger sister, Precious, stayed with us for about a year, and she loved Ruby Long. We oftentimes ran into her at the grocery store and Precious would run full-bore and throw her arms around Ruby Long's hips in a big hug. She would look up at Ruby Long, her face beaming. Ruby Long's face beamed back at her and she hugged her back, good and hard.
Ruby Long died yesterday. I meant to call her. I meant to go visit her.
And now she's gone.
Friday, February 2
My Clock Struck 31
My clock struck 31, one morning last week. If you know me, that would really make you laugh, as you would have full knowledge of just how insane that would make me.
I have always worked hard to keep our striking clocks (only 2, thank goodness) lined up so they strike within a minute of each other. Optimally, one starts up just as the other is halfway done. (My daddy's old mantle clock strikes slower than the German schoolhouse clock with the reverse-painted glass.)
About a month or two ago, the German clock began striking odd hours. While the hands keep perfect time, the amount of strikes it gives on the hour has become erratic. It may strike correctly for 4 or 5 hours, then it will strike one extra the next hour, and 3 or 4 extra on the next hour. I have applied all the normal clock-care instructions our clock man has chastened me with: never move the hands backwards, never overwind it, never wind while striking. I have paused its pendulum to have the time catch up to the strikes, to no avail. I have forwarded the hands to the stricken time -- it will be correct for a few hours, then accelerate on its strikes as described above.
The German clock has to be wound every day (I wind it at 5:30 every morning) and the mantle clock is an 8-day clock, but it is quite old and won't make 8 days. I wind it every 6 days or so, as soon as it begins to lose more than a minute or two every day.
The clock man is a couple of towns over and I am too busy trying to stay caught up on normal daily living with this new job, to take the time to take the clock to him. Amazingly, I have adapted quite well to having a clock that strikes hours ahead of its time.
I have always worked hard to keep our striking clocks (only 2, thank goodness) lined up so they strike within a minute of each other. Optimally, one starts up just as the other is halfway done. (My daddy's old mantle clock strikes slower than the German schoolhouse clock with the reverse-painted glass.)
About a month or two ago, the German clock began striking odd hours. While the hands keep perfect time, the amount of strikes it gives on the hour has become erratic. It may strike correctly for 4 or 5 hours, then it will strike one extra the next hour, and 3 or 4 extra on the next hour. I have applied all the normal clock-care instructions our clock man has chastened me with: never move the hands backwards, never overwind it, never wind while striking. I have paused its pendulum to have the time catch up to the strikes, to no avail. I have forwarded the hands to the stricken time -- it will be correct for a few hours, then accelerate on its strikes as described above.
The German clock has to be wound every day (I wind it at 5:30 every morning) and the mantle clock is an 8-day clock, but it is quite old and won't make 8 days. I wind it every 6 days or so, as soon as it begins to lose more than a minute or two every day.
The clock man is a couple of towns over and I am too busy trying to stay caught up on normal daily living with this new job, to take the time to take the clock to him. Amazingly, I have adapted quite well to having a clock that strikes hours ahead of its time.
Saturday, January 20
J-j-j-job
OK, I haven't posted in like forever. The first 2 weeks of January have been a blur. On NY eve, we slept over at a friend's house so they could go to a nearby town and party while we kept their little boys. My friend sweetly got us some sparkling juice and hats so we could "party" before putting the boys down for bed at 7:30 or 8. We had lots of fun playing with the boys and when our friends got back home they surprised me with a very large and generous gift certificate at the nicest restaurant in town.
On the third of January, I went for an interview at this small town's only art museum. It is a non-profit and has been without a development director for quite some time. On the fourth I interviewed at a business owned by folks who go to our church.
The museum made me an offer and, after a little negotiating, I accepted. I started the following Thursday, the 11th I think, and have been on the hamster wheel ever since.
DH has been awesome. He left work early several days to pick up Little One and her carpool (we are trying to change things as little as possible in that world) so that I could get established at work. My director is letting me leave at 3 for school pickup when I have to, so in return I go to work at 7:30 in the morning, even though I am not due til 8:30. There are only about 7 or 8 days a month when I do have to leave early, but I am banking up those morning hours towards those days, so that no one can ever "throw it back" at me, and also so no one else there can be resentful that I get to leave early. So it makes for quite a long day, and add on to it days like yesterday, when we had an opening reception, and I got home at 9pm.
But WHAT a day. The show is a collection of pieces owned by folks all over this small town: Dali, Matisse, Picasso, and on and on. All owned by folks in this little town. All week at work, I saw these amazing pieces go up. The folks who worked on the exhibit did such an awesome job. Last night my job was to shake hands and meet folks, and enjoy the evening. I certainly did that.
I spent the week studying records of giving, to see who gives, and infer who does not. I have identified our biggest untapped market and devised a strategy for them.
This work is fun and gratifying and the folks are great. I feel like I am in a new world.
All this was further complicated by a class I promised to teach at the church months ago, on Wednesday nights. It started this week, which was not the best timing in the world.
I am *not* cleaning the litter box every day any more, and laundry has been quite a challenge. Even though I cooked several items and froze them ahead of time, DH has already bought lots of frozen burritos and our quality of food will definitely deteriorate. He has been an amazing sport about it all, though, and I find myself depending on him for moral support, physical support, and household help. He has been wise and quiet and strong as always.
Today I must clean and shop, and my wonderful DIL1 and her two babies are coming to spend the day while DS1 packs up their house to move to the triangle. She is a good sport and will not mind that I am pretty busy. It is great that we will see her -- and the babies -- as they will soon be TWO hours away rather than one.
I realize this blog has been a miasma of good news / bad news. Anytime someone returns to work after 3 years at home it is going to be a challenge with compromise in store for everyone, but overall the workplace is lovely and I am quite excited.
The newspaper story about the garbage man retiring ran on 07.January. I have since written another story about the lady who runs the planetarium here, but I do not know when it will run. Next, I am writing a story about following in your father's footsteps. For that story I will interview several town leaders who are doing just that. More on that later...
On the third of January, I went for an interview at this small town's only art museum. It is a non-profit and has been without a development director for quite some time. On the fourth I interviewed at a business owned by folks who go to our church.
The museum made me an offer and, after a little negotiating, I accepted. I started the following Thursday, the 11th I think, and have been on the hamster wheel ever since.
DH has been awesome. He left work early several days to pick up Little One and her carpool (we are trying to change things as little as possible in that world) so that I could get established at work. My director is letting me leave at 3 for school pickup when I have to, so in return I go to work at 7:30 in the morning, even though I am not due til 8:30. There are only about 7 or 8 days a month when I do have to leave early, but I am banking up those morning hours towards those days, so that no one can ever "throw it back" at me, and also so no one else there can be resentful that I get to leave early. So it makes for quite a long day, and add on to it days like yesterday, when we had an opening reception, and I got home at 9pm.
But WHAT a day. The show is a collection of pieces owned by folks all over this small town: Dali, Matisse, Picasso, and on and on. All owned by folks in this little town. All week at work, I saw these amazing pieces go up. The folks who worked on the exhibit did such an awesome job. Last night my job was to shake hands and meet folks, and enjoy the evening. I certainly did that.
I spent the week studying records of giving, to see who gives, and infer who does not. I have identified our biggest untapped market and devised a strategy for them.
This work is fun and gratifying and the folks are great. I feel like I am in a new world.
All this was further complicated by a class I promised to teach at the church months ago, on Wednesday nights. It started this week, which was not the best timing in the world.
I am *not* cleaning the litter box every day any more, and laundry has been quite a challenge. Even though I cooked several items and froze them ahead of time, DH has already bought lots of frozen burritos and our quality of food will definitely deteriorate. He has been an amazing sport about it all, though, and I find myself depending on him for moral support, physical support, and household help. He has been wise and quiet and strong as always.
Today I must clean and shop, and my wonderful DIL1 and her two babies are coming to spend the day while DS1 packs up their house to move to the triangle. She is a good sport and will not mind that I am pretty busy. It is great that we will see her -- and the babies -- as they will soon be TWO hours away rather than one.
I realize this blog has been a miasma of good news / bad news. Anytime someone returns to work after 3 years at home it is going to be a challenge with compromise in store for everyone, but overall the workplace is lovely and I am quite excited.
The newspaper story about the garbage man retiring ran on 07.January. I have since written another story about the lady who runs the planetarium here, but I do not know when it will run. Next, I am writing a story about following in your father's footsteps. For that story I will interview several town leaders who are doing just that. More on that later...
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